


Music to my Ears

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas, Clint loses his hearing aide, Deaf Clint Barton, Get together fic, Laura is Clint's sister-in-law via Barney, M/M, Musical Clint Barton, Prank War, and doesn't deal with it very well, this fic is halfway between Teen and Mature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4102126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This music is awful. You have old man taste.” Pietro looked serious, but his eyes were lit up with mischief.</p><p>Clint did splutter this time. “This is it. I’m going to educate you on Real Music.”</p><p>Or, the one where Clint flirts with Pietro by forcing classic rock on him, and Pietro has no choice but to retaliate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Music to my Ears

**Author's Note:**

> As a background, Laura is Clint's sister-in-law via Barney. Pietro did die but was revived somehow after Age of Ultron. Clint grew up in the circus, but that isn't super relevant to this fic. He was born deaf but has a high tech hearing aide thanks to SHIELD.
> 
> As for the technology behind the hearing aide... I know almost nothing about hearing aides, and Wikipedia didn't make it much more clear. Just pretend it makes sense.
> 
> I know only a little bit about deaf culture, so tell me if there's anything blatantly wrong that I need to fix. I tried to be accurate to what I learned from my friends who are fluent in ASL, but I am in no way an expert.
> 
> Also, this fic is set a year and a half after AoU, and they all live in the Tower because reasons.
> 
> I didn't have a beta, but I did go through a few times and fixed typos and wording. 
> 
> Any teasing about the music is meant to be lighthearted. I actually enjoy all of these bands so don't take it too seriously!
> 
> Enjoy!

Clint, like any self-respecting man, loves classic rock. Tony, naturally, agrees.

 

Clint can forgive Steve for liking Ella Fitzgerald better than Elton John, ‘cause he is trying to assimilate to being a man out of time. Plus, Steve is at least making an effort to catch up on what he missed under the ice.

 

Bruce listens to classical. He says he finds it calming, and that man can use all the calming influences he can get. _Clint_ gets too excited listening to the classic rock station, often fist pumping the air and bellowing out power ballads. He understands, really, that his favorite music might be too much for the Hulk to handle.

 

Natasha likes a little of everything, the traitor. She’s the kind of person you can’t introduce music to because she’s already heard everything you throw at her. And by this point, Clint’s not getting any new material. All the good music came out before 1990; everyone knows _that_.

 

“Midguardians have such a strange array of music!” Thor says, nodding his head to Taylor Swift’s new hit. It doesn’t say much, in Clint’s opinion, because Thor will nod along to basically anything.

 

No one knows what Asguardian music sounds like, as Thor says the instruments used don't exist on Earth.

 

“That’s Asguardian for lightening-powered lyres and reed pipes,” Tony says. Thor smiles vaguely, but never refutes it.

 

Since then, Clint has overheard Pepper complaining loudly about Tony’s increasingly ridiculous and outlandish schematics for new instruments. "Tony, you realize that making instruments play themselves takes away the whole point?”

 

“The point is having a live band that the common folk won’t have to pay for! They can even program their favorite songs into them.”

 

“Who will ever need a live band that includes a didgeridoo? Or a piccolo?” Pepper doesn’t look as impressed as she should, Tony thinks. “And the whole point of music is talent and _passion_. You don’t get that with a machine.”

 

“From what I see, Vision is both talented and passionate. He sure seems to like Wanda a lot.”

 

“Vision isn’t a normal machine, Tony. And don’t think I’ve forgotten the reason I came down here…”

 

Pietro and Wanda are young and misguided, and prefer indie and alternative.

 

Clint admits it: he is a bit superior about his music taste. But he understands where others are coming from. Or at least, he tries to.

 

\-------

 

Steve said they need to work as a team and to do that, they should get to know each other. _Bond_. Clint privately thinks this is Steve compensating for the fact that his only surviving friend got brainwashed and is now more of a machine than Vision is. Well, him and Peggy Carter, but no one is brave enough – or stupid enough – to bring that up. Clint is pretty sure Steve hasn’t even visited her yet, but he’s not about to pry about something that personal.

 

So, here they are, after a grueling day of training together, eating Chinese take-out out of the cartons. Steve didn’t even let them shower first; he said the food would get cold. Most of the team looks a lot less greasy than Clint does. They had been sparring sans armor, weapons, and superpowers. Steve insisted that the Maximoffs learn how to fight normally, even though the twins insisted no one could get close enough to hurt them.

 

Damn Pietro, he didn’t even work up a sweat. Wanda was a little winded by the end of it, but she was young enough to bounce back quickly. Clint was about as fit as you could be at his age, but sparring with Pietro wore him down. The kid tried to reel in his reflexes to something a normal human could do, but he didn’t seem to try very hard.

 

Pietro says, “This Chinese food tastes very different than Chinese food in Sokovia.”

 

Wanda nods her head in agreement. “Everything is so sweet in the United States.”

 

“Even the people,” said Tony.

 

“Tony, you are anything but sweet,” said Pepper.

 

Tony put his hand over his heart and gasped. “Pepper, is that how you really feel? What about those fresh strawberries I gave you? Or that giant teddy bear? Or Stark Industries?”

 

Pepper smiled down at her carton of fried rice. “You’re right. I also loved all those voicemails of you singing. I didn’t even know you knew all the words to ‘Let It Go.’”

 

“Lies. Utter lies.”

 

A laugh bubbled out of Clint before he could stop it. “Did you save those voicemails? Cause I would pay you to hear them.”

 

Tony scoffed. “Ultron deleted all the files on my computers.”

 

Pepper said, “But not the Stark Industries files on my computer. And phone. What are you willing to pay?”

 

Clint may have looked a little too excited. “I’ll do you a favor of your choosing.”

 

“A favor from Clint Barton? Deal.” Pepper looked a little too excited.

 

“No. Absolutely not. Friday, delete all files on Peppers phone of me singing,” Tony said.

 

“Sir, I cannot. Miss Pots has forbidden me from accessing any of her files that she has listed as ‘Personal.’ You have instructed me to follow all of Pepper’s requests regarding her security.”

 

Clint was trying and failing to suppress a grin.

 

For a fleeting moment, Tony looked a bit panicked. Then he got a gleam in his eye. “Friday, do you have any recordings of Clint Barton singing?”

 

“Yes, I have 93 instances of Mr. Barton singing in the past two months.”

 

Clint didn’t lose his smirk, which was slightly unnerving.

 

“Before you get excited, you might want to know that Clint is actually a pretty good singer,” Natasha said.

 

Tony said, “There are 93 files. He has to sound bad sometimes.”

 

“He has perfect pitch,” Natasha pointed out.

 

“How the hell do you have perfect pitch? Shouldn’t you be tone deaf?”

 

Pietro and Wanda looked confused by this, but no one noticed.

 

Clint laughed, even though he got the sense that Pepper was offended on his behalf. Clint waved his hand, “Go ahead. My best singing is in the shower, but I sing when I cook too.”

 

Tony picked one at random. Clint’s voice came on over the sound system. He was singing the end of “Paradise by the Dashboard Light” by Meat Loaf.

 

As they listened, Tony grew more and more irritated. Clint was _good_. It didn’t even matter that he was singing the female part, which had some pretty unmanly lyrics. He was even drumming on the pans, presumably with a wooden spoon, annoyingly on beat.

 

“Hey Tony, want to do a duet? We can change the key so it’s more in your range—“

 

“Shut it, Barton. There has to be at least one file where you sound less than good.”  


“You saying I sound good?”

 

Pietro intervened. “I have never heard this song before.”

 

Clint looked scandalized. “Friday, play ‘Paradise by the Dashboard Light’ by Meat Loaf.”

 

“Meat Loaf? What an awful name for a band.”  
  
The song played. Pietro listened to about a minute of it before he said, “You like this music?”

 

Clint didn’t splutter, but it was a close call. “What’s not to like? It’s classic rock. It’s even got Phil Rizzuto, who was a famous baseball announcer, and –“

 

“This music is awful. You have old man taste.” Pietro looked serious, but his eyes were lit up with mischief.

 

Clint did splutter this time. “This is it. I’m going to educate you on Real Music.”

 

“I would not willingly listen to this.”

 

“Then watch your back, Quicksilver.” Clint looked like he was already planning his next move.

 

\-------

 

Clint makes it his mission to educate Pietro about Good Music. He figures he’ll start small, so he plays the Beatles whenever Pietro comes into the kitchen for his morning coffee. Pietro doesn’t look impressed, and takes to using his super speed to get out of the kitchen as soon as possible.

 

Unfortunately but unsurprisingly, Pietro uses his super speed to thwart his every attempt, to the point where Wanda confronts him.

 

“Clint. Pietro is stubborn and will not listen to your music. You play music every time he comes for meals. Now he does not eat with us. You must stop.”

 

Clint figures she has a point. “Okay, tell him he can eat meals in the common room. I’ll stop chasing him out.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

\-------

 

Clint resorts to programming Pietro's alarm clock to play "Jack and Diane" by John Mellencamp every morning. He has the help of Pepper, who has almost as much authority with Friday as Tony does.

 

Pietro manually changes it back to Arctic Monkeys every. Single. Day. For a week. Finally, he goes to Tony to fix it.

 

“Tony, there is a problem with my alarm clock. It will not play my music. Clint has done something to it.”

 

“And you want me to fix it?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

“I want revenge. Help me change his music library.”

 

“It’ll cost you.” Tony looks positively devious.

 

“What do you want me to do?”

 

“Get Clint to sing a really embarrassing song. Something he wouldn’t be caught dead singing if he knew someone else was listening.”

 

“Do I have to do it now or can it be a long-term favor?”

 

Tony thinks for a moment. “You have one month. Now what do you want in his music library?”

 

\-------

 

Clint steps into the shower. “Friday, play some music.”

 

Clint freezes, shampoo bottle in hand, as “Mayfly” by Belle & Sebastian played softly overhead. This is not his music. “Friday, play something from my music library.”

 

“This is from your music library, Mr. Barton.”

 

“Play the Rolling Stones.”

 

“All music created from before 1990 has been banned from your quarters.” Friday sounded slightly regretful.

 

Clint knew this had to be retaliation from Pietro. Honestly, he’d been expecting it. But if Pietro thinks that this guy is a talented singer, he is dead wrong.

 

“Turn off the music.”

 

Clint sings “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by the Rolling Stones without an accompaniment.

 

\-------

 

“The lead singer for The Tallest Man on Earth sounds like he’s singing into a tin can,” says Clint.

 

Pietro smirks at him. “That’s part of the charm.”

 

\-------

 

You don’t mess with Clint Barton and not expect retaliation.

 

“Hey, Pepper.”

 

“I heard what Pietro did. I’m figuring you want to pull his pigtails.”

 

Clint decides not to respond to that. “I need my old music library to be the only options that Pietro has anywhere Friday is installed. And I need my music back in my room.”

 

“Tony was the one who did that to your room, so I can’t change it. But I’ll make sure the other part happens.”

 

\-------

 

“Vision, you could override Tony’s clearance if you wanted, couldn’t you?” Clint figured this was his last hope before he had to resort to extreme measures.

 

“That would neither be wise nor logical for me to hack Tony Stark’s Friday, as I am still unsure if all the Avengers or SHIELD trusts me yet.” Vision looked impassive about this.

 

“But you could, if you wanted to.”

 

“Yes, but not without repercussions.”

 

“So, what I need you to do is completely harmless. I need my music library back.”

 

“Although I understand your intentions are harmless, this would not be without consequence. Fury would have evidence to consider me a threat.”

 

“Fury definitely already knows that.”

 

“I am sorry, Clint, but I will not do this for you.”

 

Clint looked slightly crestfallen, but he clapped Vision on the shoulder, and said, “Alright, well, it was worth asking.”

 

\-------

 

“Laura?” Pietro felt extremely awkward about calling Laura, but he figured this was his best chance.

 

“Who is this?” Laura sounded distracted. There was the sound of children giggling in the background.

 

“This is Pietro. I am—“

 

“Oh my god, is Clint okay?” She didn’t sound distracted anymore.

 

“Yes, he is okay. You know who I am?” Pietro hadn’t thought about Clint talking to his family about him.

 

“Yes, of course! My son is named after you.”

 

Pietro froze. Clint named his son after him?

 

Laura seemed to notice the tension on the other end of the line. “It was after Ultron, after everyone though you were dead. He wanted to honor your memory. Plus, Pietro is a good name and I couldn’t bare to name him after Barney.”

 

Pietro was stunned. He managed to say, “I did not know.”

 

“Clint was probably embarrassed and didn’t know how to bring it up. But he should have told you.” There was more silence on the line. “Well, did you call for a reason, since you clearly weren’t asking about your namesake?”

 

“Yes. I have a favor to ask.”

 

“Shoot.” There was a sound of a baby gurgling close to the earpiece.

 

He told her about his wager with Tony. “I have three weeks left, and I figure you would be the best person to ask.”

 

“Well, I don’t have any embarrassing child home videos. Those were sorely lacking in the Barton household. Clint and his brother never graduated elementary school, so he was never in any talent shows or theater productions.” This was news to Pietro. Why had Clint never graduated _elementary_ school? Even Pietro and Wanda had done that. “You know what? Clint comes home for all my kid’s birthdays. Lila’s birthday is next week, and she is obsessed with princess movies. Leave it to me.”

 

\-------

 

Tony wasn’t beyond a little friendly double-crossing. So, Clint suggested he make extremely magnetized boots. He said it was part of a plan. And if Clint also suggested he make them in Pietro’s shoe size, he’d say it was a coincidence.

 

\-------

 

Pietro never should have trusted Bruce. The guy looks so calm and unassuming when he’s not green and angry. Anyone would trust Bruce.

 

He was so, so wrong. He was running to pick up Mexican food for the Avengers. Steve had called another team bonding event, so they had sparred, and later Pietro was sent to pick up food from a place with no delivery. He had gone in his new shoes, since Bruce had given them to him that afternoon. He said they were made to withstand more friction and the old ones were getting too worn out.

 

So here he was, holding two bags full to the brim with food. And he was stuck to the sewer grate by the soles of his boots. His feet wouldn’t move. He almost started to panic, but then he saw Clint sidle up to him, with a smile on his face.

 

Clint was wearing a leather jacket over a worn black T-shirt, loose dark jeans combat boots, and sunglasses. He also had a very large boombox on his shoulder.

 

“You stuck? What a shame. Must be a malfunction with the shoes.”

 

Clint pressed the play button with vigor. “Barracuda” by Heart blared so loud that Pietro was vaguely worried about Clint’s hearing.

 

“You’ll go deaf, old man.”

 

“Too late,” Barton replied, continuing to circle Pietro (annoyingly out of arms reach) and sing very loudly.

 

Three more songs played, and Pietro debated whether walking home in his socks was worth it.

 

“Our food is getting cold,” Pietro reasoned.

 

“That’s what microwaves are for.”

 

When “Boys of Summer” by Don Henley started playing, he decided he’d had enough. He untied his shoes and slipped his feet out. Clint was watching him, but still singing just as enthusiastically as before.

 

He stepped with socked feet on the pavement, and started walking.

 

“You not gonna run?” Clint said.

 

“New York City is the dirtiest place I’ve ever been to. I would never see a needle in time, and I do not want to find out if my healing abilities would extend to HIV.”

 

“Smart move. You know, I bet if scientists knew you could heal yourself, they would be lining up to get your blood.”

 

“That will not happen. I will outrun them all first.”

 

Clint smiled, and looked like he was going to say something. “Africa” by Toto came on, and whatever he was going to say was lost. He started harmonizing with the CD.

 

Pietro found himself watching Clint more than he was watching the ground for the rest of the walk home.

 

\-------

 

Eight days later, Pietro got an email with a video attached.

 

_Dear Pietro,_

_I told Clint that Lila really wanted to go to the Father-Daughter Halloween dance as Cinderella, and Clint’s the closest thing she’s got to a father. So would he pretty please go with her, and sing some Disney tunes? He wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but he cried a little. I went to document this momentous occasion, obviously. Enjoy!_

_Best,_

_Laura_

 

Pietro stumbled at the ending to the first sentence. Clint wasn’t Lila’s father? But he thought—he thought Laura and Clint were married? Did she just mean that Clint was Lila’s step-father?

 

Pietro clicked the link, and kind of wished he hadn’t.

 

_“Oh, Clint, you clean up nice.”_

__Pietro privately agreed.

 

_“Get that thing out of my face,” Clint was laughing, and Laura panned the camera up Clint’s body. He was wearing a suit identical to what the prince in Cinderella wears, including the gold braid and shoulder pads. “Where’s my princess?”_

_“She’s practicing singing. She wants her duet to be perfect.”_

_“She’ll be great. Where’s Cooper and Nate?”_

_“Cooper’s playing video games. Nathaniel Pietro Barton is about to wake up and demand to be fed.”_

Pietro had the feeling the only reason she said the full name was so Pietro could hear it later.

_Clint laughed and said, “I’ll feed him if you want.”_

_“Yeah, okay. But you better be careful, cause I can bet mashed peas won’t come out of your shirt.”_

_There was the beginning of a wail coming from the other room._

_The picture changed abruptly to Clint holding a toddler in his arms, spoon-feeding him._

_Clint looked completely at peace, looking down at the child. There was a stomping of little feet running down the stairs._

_“Uncle Clint! You’re here! Do you wanna see my teeth?” Cooper opened his mouth to show one of his front teeth missing._

Pietro froze. _Uncle Clint?_ So Clint and Laura weren’t a couple? They were _siblings?_

 

_“Woah! Did the tooth fairy come? She must have given you a lot for that tooth!”_

_“Yeah! I got two dollars! That’s, like, a whole candy bar!”_

_A new voice carried down the stairs._

_“Mom! Play the music! I’m ready!”_

_Clint stood and put Nate on baby seat, and Laura pressed a button on the stereo. The beginnings of a song started to play._

_“A dream is a wish your heart makes,” the little girl sang as she walked down the stairs. Clearly, Laura was a good seamstress, because her dress was identical to the movie dress, fluffy petticoat and all._

_The girl had a good voice, for a child. She sang the first stanza, and was at the bottom of the stairs. She waited there, and Pietro had the feeling this had been scripted beforehand. The camera panned over to Clint, who slowly made his way across the room, and sang,_

_“Have faith in your dreams and someday_

_Your rainbow will come smiling through_

_No matter how your heart is grieving_

_If you keep on believing_

_The dream that you wish will come true.”_

_Clint’s voice was so completely different than when he sang that Meat Loaf song. His voice was smooth and soared around the room. On the last line, he picked up Lila and spun her around. When he set her down, they continued the duet._

_Clint led Lila into a waltz with confident steps._

Pietro vaguely wondered where on earth Clint learned to dance, because this was clearly not his first time doing the waltz.

 

_“Oh that clock,” Clint said as a bell tower chimed on the CD._

_“Killjoy,” said Lila. “I hear you! Come on, get up you say!”_

_“Time to start another day,” Clint said. “Even_ he _orders me around.”_

_“Well there’s one thing: they can’t order me to stop dreaming,” said Lila._

_“And perhaps one day,” Clint said, and then he and Lila finished the rest of the sentence in song, “The dreams that I wish will come true.”_

_The rest of the song Clint danced with Lila, harmonizing with her as Laura whistled like a bird in the background._

_At the end, Clint twirled Lila out and bowed at the waist. “Thank you for this dance, princess,” Clint said with a smile._

_Lila curtsied and said, “You’re welcome.”_

_The last note of the music played, and then Lila squealed. “That was PERFECT. Uncle Clint, that was perfect! You’ll stay the whole dance, right?”_

_“I’ll do my best to stay every minute of it,” Clint said._

_Lila squealed._

_The camera cut again, to Clint singing Bippity Boppity Boo to Lila as they walked up to the school. Lila twirled and ruffled her petticoats, and Clint put a tiara on her head._

_Lila sped up and ran all the way to the doors where she saw a friend._

_The camera angled to the ground, at Laura’s feet, like she dropped her hand and forgot the camera was still on._

_“Laura, I know we discussed this, but what if someone recognizes me? I don’t want anyone coming after you, or the kids.”_

_“Clint, I know you think that, and I’d agree, but this is a small town, and there aren’t any cameras. Most people here listen to NPR more than the news. No one will know.”_

_“What if someone recognizes me? I have a mask, I could—“_

_“No. The news never gets you or Nat’s faces directly, and Prince Charming doesn’t wear a mask. I tell everyone that you are a business man and have to work a lot overseas. We’ve been through your cover story. Just try to have a good time.”_

_The feet come to a stop. “Laura, spies and assassins don’t live to be my age if you aren’t careful. I promised I’d try to stay the whole night, but if anyone seems suspicious, we are going home, getting Cooper and Nate from the babysitter, and we’re flying to New York. Tony can make you new identities, no problem.”_

_“Clint, relax. No one here is going to hurt us. Barney isn’t here to ruin anything. No one hears ‘busy businessman’ and immediately thinks ‘avenger.’ You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. And the room will be dim, probably have a disco light. And don’t go pulling out knives to intimidate suspicious people. And I know you have at least three knives on you and maybe a gun.”_

_“My bow and arrow didn’t fit, but it’s in the car.”_

_“That’s not as reassuring as you think. Just… have a good time with Lila. She hardly ever gets to see you.”_

_“Mom! Uncle Clint! Hurry UP.” Lila’s voice carried from a distance away._

_The camera cuts to various shots of Clint and Lila dancing and singing. Most of the music seemed to be Kidz Bop or Disney._

_The last shot is Clint on the back porch of Laura’s house. The angle the camera is at, it seems like it’s been left on a table and someone forgot to turn it off. Clint is still in the prince outfit, and next to him is Laura in a poodle skirt and blouse._

_“Does it ever bother you? That you don’t have the apple pie life?” Laura asks._

_Clint looks at her and sighs. “Laura, I have_ never _had the apple pie life. You know that. If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now.”_

_“You didn’t answer the question,” Laura pointed out._

_Clint took a moment. “Maybe at one point I wanted it. But now? I don’t know if I could handle a stable 9 to 5 job. I’d get bored, start looking for conspiracies, hack into things I shouldn’t.”_

_“You did good with Lila tonight. You sure you don’t want kids of your own?” Laura smiled._

_“No way. I’d be an awful parent. I’d never be around and then eventually get killed by an alien or a robot. My kid would resent me, and then might try to meet the guy that killed me, just to thank them. Plus, I’m a little old to be starting a family.”_

_“Older guys than you have had kids. You’re only 38.”_

_“On rainy days, I wake up and I don’t want to move ‘cause my joints ache. I’m getting too old to be a field agent, but I couldn’t settle for a desk job.”_

_“Being an Avenger isn’t the only thing you have going for you. You have me and the kids. And love might be just around the corner.”_

_Clint let out a bark of laughter, like that was the last thing he expected her to say. “Yeah, and who would want a washed up field agent like me?”_

_Laura looked mischievous. “Maybe someone who was also a field agent?”_

_“If you’re talking about Nat, she’s like a sister—“_  
  
“I’m not talking about Nat.” Laura grinned.

_Clint looked defensive. “I’m not really close to anyone else.”_

_“Don’t play dumb, Barton. Whenever you call with an update, there’s always someone you bring up.” Clint glared at her. She waited for him to say something, but nothing came. She continued, “I’m positive that Pietro is a wonderful guy.”_

_Clint’s glare turned murderous. “Laura, no.”_

_“Oh come on. I know you are all about repressing your feelings, but it’s not like you couldn’t tell you liked him.”_

_“Laura, drop it.”_

_“The reason you’re getting so mad is cause you know it’s true. You might not be ready for it. But from what I hear he’s into you too, so—“_

_“Laura. He’s most definitely straight. And he’s most definitely too young for me. And I’m not going to date anyone on the team.”_

_“He’s most definitely bi. He’s 26, he can make his own decisions. And I know it’s not against the rules to date anyone on the team. I think—“_

_“Laura. Who did you talk to about this?” Clint sounded tired._

_“Nat.” Clint looked at her. “And she asked Wanda.”_

_Clint stood up abruptly and started to walk away._

_“I just think that if you were going to find someone, it should be someone who understands the whole Avengers thing. And who better than an Avenger?”_

_Clint paused in the doorway. “Laura, I get that you’re trying to help. Just… Leave this be, alright?”_

The video ended. Pietro was frozen in place, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He had the distinct feeling that last clip wasn’t meant to be sent to him. He was not supposed to see that. In fact, he shouldn’t have seen any of the clips.

 

He decided immediately he couldn’t give any of this to Tony. Even the scene with Bippity Boppity Boo seemed too intimate.

 

The problem was, he _had_ been flirting with Clint for a while. He had backed off about a month ago, after he overheard Clint and Nat talking about “Laura and the kids.” He had assumed they were married. But ever since the Music War started, he had been going out of his way to be in the common room, just to hear Clint complain about how you couldn’t belt out Iron and Wine, that there was no passion in it at all. He had put significant time into selecting music, taking into consideration his complaints while also trying to broaden Clint’s horizons. He felt like it was the equivalent of a mixed cassette tape that 90s teens would make each other.

 

And though he had backed off, he still _wanted_. He wanted to be surrounded by Clint’s quick wit and good-heartedness. He wanted to see what it would be like to kiss him. He wanted to be able to hold his hand and face the world together. He had despaired to Wanda after he “discovered” Clint was married with kids. He kicked himself for hoping in the first place.

 

But now— he had confirmation that not only was Clint single, but he had feelings for Pietro. Although he might need some convincing.

 

\-------

 

Pietro decided to accept his fate and tell Tony he failed at getting footage of Clint singing an embarrassing song. But he had the good sense to wait until the last minute of his due date.

 

“You ever hear that law that what ever sin you do, it will come back threefold?” Tony asked with a gleam in his eye.

 

“If that were true, you would be very dead.”

 

Tony ignored that comment. “Barton asked Vision to instruct Friday only play Classic Rock around you. Vision had moral objections to hacking my systems. But I have no such qualms.”

 

\-------

 

Clint heard the music before he saw Pietro.

 

“Jessie’s Girl” by Rick Springfield came like a wave as Pietro ran full speed into the kitchen.

 

Clint looked delighted.

 

“Do not look so happy, old man. Stark cursed me with constant rock.”

Clint’s smile got even bigger, until he turned back to stirring a giant pot of soup, and belted out the chorus.

 

Pietro took some leftover chicken out of the fridge and decided to eat it cold.

 

Halfway through the song, Pietro thought, _Fuck it._

 

He started to sing, full of confidence that he really, really didn’t feel. And once he started, Clint’s singing came to a complete stop. “And I’m lookin’ in the mirror all the time, wonderin’ what she don’t see in me. I been funny, I been cool with the lines. Ain’t that the way love’s supposed to be?”

 

Clint turned around with a carefully controlled expression. “You’re not half bad. You ever have lessons?”

 

“No, but my mother was a good singer. Wanda is pretty good too.”

 

Clint let a smirk cover up the complete whirlwind of emotions he was feeling. “You knew the words. How many times have you listened to it?”

 

“Twice. But I would not call it listening. I cannot escape your playlist. I dream about living in 1986 and not knowing who Marina and the Diamonds is.”

 

“I can bet if you ever see Marina live, her chin will be bobbing up and down with all those octave jumps. It’s not natural.”

 

“Her music videos prove otherwise. Marina is very talented.”

 

Clint scoffed and turned back to his soup.

 

\-------

 

Clint and Pietro had been at a stalemate for weeks, volleying new pranks at each other with help from the team. At this point, everyone was involved, even Vision.

 

The Great Musical Prank War, as Tony has come to call it, came to an end when during a battle, Hawkeye gets a heavy knock to the head and his hearing aide falls out. He curses, and then realizes he can’t hear a single damn thing. He looks to his left and sees the remains of his hearing aide, smashed underfoot.

 

The battle ends soon after, and Clint meets up at the rendezvous point. He sees that everyone is there, for the most part in one piece.

 

He makes a beeline for Natasha, and signs in ASL, “ _Nat? My hearing aide fell out and I can’t hear anything_.” He raises his eyebrows, “ _Tell Stark to make me a new one_?”

 

Natasha answered, “ _You must have gotten hit pretty hard. You okay?”_

_“Nothing I can’t handle.”_

Natasha looks over at the rest of the team. _“Lover boy looks concerned.”_ Natasha smirked.

 

Clint gave her the middle finger and got on the plane without looking back. Unfortunately, he had to spend 3 hours with them on the plane ride home in utter silence.

 

\-------

 

Pietro was sitting with Wanda when he saw Clint using sign language with Natasha. He had no idea why Clint would ever need to learn sign language in the first place, but he figured he was using it because he didn’t want anyone else to know what he was saying.

 

There was just so much he didn’t know about Clint. Why did he never finish elementary school? Where did he learn to sing so well? Who the hell was Barney? Why did he know sign language? He was usually more concerned with trying to get Clint to realize he was Making Moves, but right now he just felt overwhelmed.

 

He reached out to Wanda in his mind, silently asking for comfort. He wanted to complain to her about all his unanswered questions, but he felt like he wasn’t even supposed to know as much as he knew. He couldn’t bring Wanda into Clint’s personal life too.

 

\-------

 

Clint hasn’t been completely deaf for about fifteen years. After he joined SHIELD, he got the best technology, including an earpiece that connected to his brain, bypassing the useless eardrum. The only part that could get damaged was the receiver, which was just inside the ear. You wouldn’t notice it unless you were looking.

 

It had been damaged once before, 7 years ago. He was on a mission that went south, and ended up in a fight. Someone got a good punch to his right ear, making the receiver have constant background static.

 

He remembers what it was like to suddenly be able to hear, after the implant. The first sounds he heard were the beeping of machines, telling the doctors he was still alive. He remembers hearing his own voice, stretching out to tell someone, anyone that it worked. The operation was a success.

 

Phones are useless if you’re deaf and it’s the early 2000s. Texting wasn’t common, and if you can’t see the other person, you can’t read their lips.

 

Clint got his first phone and called Barney. Barney seemed surprised, but pretty pleased that Clint could finally hear him. Clint was rather disappointed; Barney had an ugly voice.

 

He learned the effect that inflection had on sentences. You can get a lot of it by body language, but now the difference was tangible. He loved the effect of sarcasm on words, like they dripped from his mouth.

 

Clint self-corrected his speech patterns, his slight lisp. He could hear what the letter S was supposed to sound like, and he could mimic it. He reveled in it.

 

But now, Clint was back to January 8th, 2000, before his operation, except it was so much worse. He could see as well as ever, shoulders shaking as his friends laughed, eyes crinkled at the corners. He whipped his head back and forth to keep up with the conversation, reading lips as fast as he ever did. But now he knew what he was missing. He could still enjoy the vibrations of music, but he couldn’t hear it, and it just wasn’t the same. He could feel himself singing, but he couldn’t hear the notes. He couldn’t hear the smile in Natasha’s voice when she was teasing him, or the lilt in Pietro’s voice. Hell, he even missed Stark’s voice, so perfectly sarcastic.

 

He doesn’t think he showed it, but when Stark told him it’d take about two weeks to make his new hearing aide, he panicked.

 

“What makes it take so long?”  
  
“Cause I have to get medical grade plastic from a specific supplier, and they are back-ordered until January 2nd. I would synthesize it myself, but I don’t have the right monomers for it and those would take until February 14th to come in. I was going to fly over there in stealth mode and steal some, leaving some gold doubloons in its place, but Pepper threatened me.”

 

“I hope the threat was a good one.” Clint said and walked back to his rooms. He sat on the bed with his elbows on his knees and stared at the wall.

 

He’s not sure how much time passed, but Natasha walked in without knocking (what would be the point?) and turned on his boombox. She cranked the volume and placed his hand on the top so he could feel the vibrations. He let out a strangled laugh when he recognized she was playing, “I Will Survive” by Gloria Gaynor. His laugh turned slightly hysterical but he couldn’t stop it.

 

Natasha hugs him as he says, “It’ll take two weeks minimum. I was going to go see Laura and the kids for Christmas and New Years, but Laura’s never seen me deaf, and it’ll confuse the kids. Besides you, Barney’s the only one who knew me then, and he’s gone. Not that I would want to spend the holidays with him anyway.”

 

Natasha pulls back so he can see her face. “I can tell Laura what happened. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it. Just explain everything to her and the kids.”

 

“I want to believe that it would be fine, but I can’t handle Laura’s pity right now. And the kids—Uncle Clint is fine one day, deaf the next, and in a bit he’s able to hear again. I don’t want to do that to them.” Clint is trying to keep his voice steady, but he isn’t able to tell with certainty whether he is succeeding.

 

“They’re your family, and they’ll miss you if you aren’t there.”

 

“Fuck. Yeah, fuck, I know.” Clint closes his eyes to collect himself. “Want to come with me?”

 

Natasha doesn’t have a family. If she wasn’t on a mission, she’d be at the Tower. Plus, Clint’s her best friend. It doesn’t take much thought. “Sure.”

 

\-------

 

Pietro knows that something happened to Clint. Something everyone but he and Wanda seem to know about. And no one seems inclined to tell them.

 

He suspected something on the plane ride home, because Clint didn’t say a single thing. But it was later, when Clint was sitting on a barstool at the island, staring down a bottle of whiskey but not touching it—Pietro got worried. He asked Friday to turn down the volume on the current rock song (he still couldn’t get Tony to make it stop), and plugged in his iPod to some battery-operated speakers, “Samson” by Regina Spektor was able to be heard over “Bennie and the Jets.”

 

Clint didn’t turn around. He didn’t even look like he realized Pietro was there. Either that, or he was ignoring him.

 

He walked around to the front of the island to get in Clint’s line of view. “You like this song?”

 

Clint looked up at him, a mask of indifference on his face. “It’s good.” He said the words carefully, quietly, like he was afraid to speak up.

 

Now Pietro was _actually, very_ worried. “Even the line about wonder bread?”

 

Clint looked confused for a second, and then smirked, like he suddenly understood the joke. “I was lying. Your taste in music still sucks.” He was still talking quietly, but this time it sounded like he was more confident in what he was saying.

 

Clint abruptly stood up and said softly, “I’m gonna hit the hay. G’night.” He put the unopened bottle of whiskey back on its shelf, and left quickly.

 

\-------

 

Pietro has a temper, he knows this. He has to restrain himself from making a scene when Clint and Natasha leave the day after the battle.

 

“Where did Clint and Natasha go?” Pietro asks through clenched teeth.

 

Steve looks at him strangely. “To his sister-in-law’s house for the holidays.”

 

Pietro was momentarily thrown again, and then realized Laura must be his sister-in-law rather than his sister. But he forgot many Americans celebrate Christmas. The fight leaves him as quickly as it came. “Is Clint okay? He did not speak on the plane, or come to dinner last night. They left before the sun came up.”

 

Steve looked conflicted. “He’ll be okay. He’s just going through a rough patch.”

 

That was not as reassuring as Steve thought it was.

 

\-------

 

Clint and Natasha showed up mid-morning. Natasha had told her the situation beforehand. To be honest, when Barney said that his brother was “hard of hearing,” she didn’t realize he meant completely deaf. She didn’t know there was even technology that could fix someone who was born completely deaf, especially back in 2001 when she met him.

 

Clint looked extremely agitated, to say the least. The sudden lack of hearing was straining him, she could tell.

 

“The kids are still asleep. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow, but the rooms are ready. Do you want to put your bags upstairs?” Laura was trying to act like nothing was different, but she didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

 

“I’ll put them upstairs.” Clint shouldered the two bags and headed up the stairs.

 

“So… why is he barefoot?” Laura asked.

 

“He can feel vibrations better. So if someone is walking towards him, he can feel it.” Natasha answered.

 

“Okay.” Laura nodded. That made sense. “Can you teach me sign language?”

 

Natasha smiled. “You won’t be fluent in a day. He’ll have his hearing back by the time you can make sentences.”

 

“I don’t care. Just the basics, then. I need to show him that I care enough to try.”

 

Natasha’s grin broadened. “Let’s start with the alphabet.”

 

\-------

 

Wanda came running to Pietro’s room, but the door was locked. “Pietro! Open your door!”

 

Pietro could feel how urgent she thought this was, but he was in no mood to talk.

 

Through the link, Wanda called him colorful names in Sokovian, and then said, “ _Pietro, it is about Clint! I found out something!”_

The door opened in an instant. He supposed his eagerness might have embarrassed him if it was anyone other than Wanda. She could feel how he felt about Clint, so there was no point in hiding it.

 

He ushered her inside and looked at her expectantly.

 

“I talked with Vision, and he showed me surveillance footage from our rendezvous point after the last battle.” Pietro looked at her blankly. She could feel his confusion. “Clint and Natasha spoke in American Sign Language then. Vision translated it for us.”

 

“Show me!”

 

Wanda set up the video, and zoomed in on Clint and Natasha. Amazingly, both their hand gestures were in view of the camera. Subtitles flashed across the bottom of the screen.

 

“ _Nat? My hearing aide fell out and I can’t hear anything_. _Tell Stark to make me a new one_?”

 

“ _You must have gotten hit pretty hard. You okay?”_

_“Nothing I can’t handle.”_

_“Lover boy looks concerned.”_

 

Pietro’s heart stopped. Clint was deaf? No wonder he didn’t respond to the music that night. Pietro felt like an asshole, and then he felt angry. Why did no one tell him? Why did Steve brush him off?

 

He bolted from his room, in search for someone to yell at.  
  
\-------

 

In hindsight, yelling at Bruce might have been a mistake. Just because he was the first person he came across, doesn’t mean he should start a fight with the man that could pound him into a pulp.

 

“Pietro, I was so busy recovering from the Other Guy that I didn’t even notice that you and Wanda didn’t know.”

 

Pietro didn’t have a response to that, but he punched the wall anyway.

 

“Someone should have told us!”

 

“Told you both? Or just you?”

 

Pietro called him every dirty word he knew in Sokovian, Romani, and Hebrew, sometimes all in the same sentence.

 

“Pietro, you need to calm down.” This aggravated Pietro more. He tried again. “Pietro, I need you to calm down, so I can stay calm.” Pietro ground to a halt. He didn’t want to unleash the Hulk without a damn good reason. Pietro exhaled sharply, nodded once, and then disappeared in a flash of blue and white.

 

\-------

 

“Cap, incoming angry boyfriend.”

 

Steve did not look the least bit surprised when Pietro ran into the room.

 

“Tell me where Laura Barton’s house is.” Pietro looked both livid and determined. That was not a good combination.

 

“Unclench your jaw. We can hear you grinding your teeth from here,” said Tony.

 

“Bring up the coordinates,” Pietro repeated. Tony thought could practically see the steam coming out his ears.

 

Steve looked at Tony and nodded.

 

“But Steve, how do we know this is actually Pietro Maximoff, and not some HYRDA look alike?”

 

Pietro ran, lightning fast, and pushed Tony up against a wall, forearm against his throat. “Either way, if you do not tell me, I will hurt you.” Abruptly he stepped backwards, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

 

Steve looked like he was steeling himself to intervene. “Pietro, you can’t—“ he started.

 

“Do not talk to me, Steve, unless it is to give me directions.”

 

They decided to give him directions.

 

\-------

 

Clint sat in his room and tried not to let any tears fall. It was Christmas Eve, and he couldn’t hear his niece and nephews. He couldn’t hear the excitement in their voices, or their tears when one of them was upset. How was he supposed to know if they needed help if he couldn’t hear them? They talked so fast, all on top of one another, and he couldn’t focus on reading all their lips at once. He kept missing half the conversation. Laura told him Nate said his first word, and he couldn’t hear it, or the happy baby gurgle. And he had forgotten how hard it is, to read children’s lips. They don’t speak words correctly yet, they don’t annunciate, what does that shape of the mouth mean?

 

Pieces of deaf culture were coming back to him, and he didn’t want to tell his niece and nephews—his kids—they were doing it wrong. They needed to make sure he was looking at them. They needed to keep eye contact when talking, not turn away to point out the window or at the TV. They need to raise their eyebrows when asking a question.

 

And he was aware that he couldn’t tell how loud he was being. He didn’t want to yell or speak too softly. He didn’t want to ruin this holiday, but he knew he was. He was overwhelmed by the silence, and by everything happening so quickly around him, and not being able to hear a single damn thing. It was unnerving, too—how could he tell they were under attack if he couldn’t hear the planes coming? How could he protect others if he couldn’t hear what was behind him?

 

Logically, he knew that he was a SHIELD agent before he got his hearing back, and he is alive to tell the tale. And it’s just for one more week. Plus whatever time it takes for Stark to actually build the thing.

 

One more week.

 

\-------

 

Clint’s phone was vibrating. He cracked open an eye to look at the screen, and saw a text from Pepper.

 

FROM: Pepper Potts

_You know that favor you owe me? I want to cash it._

Clint was less than enthused. His week was bad enough already.

 

He replied, _Yeah?_

FROM: Pepper Potts

_My favor is for you to go on a date with Pietro. I have a feeling he’ll ask you soon. Say yes and go on one date with him. Actually try to enjoy yourself._

TO: Pepper Potts

_That’s two favors._

FROM: Pepper Potts

_I swear to God, Clint, if you don’t say yes and if you don’t at least show that you care a little bit, I will send all your paychecks to Tony, who most certainly doesn’t need them and probably wouldn’t notice anything has been added to his bank account._

FROM: Pepper Potts

_And you will never get those voicemails of Tony drunkenly singing Frozen. There are 3 of them. One has entirely new lyrics, but is to the tune of “Do you want to build a snowman?”_

TO: Pepper Potts

_You drive a hard bargain. You’re putting an awful lot of weight on your belief that Pietro will ask me. If he doesn’t, can I still get the voicemails?_

FROM: Pepper Potts

_If he doesn’t ask within one week, I will not only be extremely surprised, but I will forfeit my favor and give you full access to the voicemails._

Feeling pretty confident in his odds, he sent one last text.

 

TO: Pepper Potts

\-------

 

Clint was sitting in the kitchen when Laura got a call on her cell phone. She felt a bit rude, especially cause Clint couldn’t even eavesdrop like he usually would.

 

“Laura, this is Wanda.”

 

Laura walked around the table and faced the window. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yes, yes. Well, mostly. Pietro insists on visiting you. He left the Tower yesterday morning and I did not know until now. I believe he is on his way to you.”

 

“We have room for him. Are you coming too?”

 

“I would like to, if it is okay with you. I need to be with my brother. Vision said he can get me there sooner than a plane. Vision does not need to sleep, so he does not need a room.”

 

“Sure thing. Don’t worry, we had the whole team here during the Ultron business.”

 

Wanda decides not to point out that she was the reason they all had to go to the safe house in the first place. “Okay. Vision says we should be there by tomorrow, because we will be keeping an eye out for Pietro on our way there.”

 

\-------

 

Pietro started running initially because he needed to do something to get his anger out.

 

He was beginning to think he should have just taken a plane.

 

\-------

 

Clint is suspicious. Laura keeps looking at him and smirking. He has a feeling that it has to do with whoever called this morning. And possibly Pepper.

 

He doesn’t like it.

 

He doesn’t like it one bit.

 

\-------

 

Clint is sitting on the bottom steps of front porch, drinking his morning coffee and tapping his feet against the pavement. He’s wearing boots with extremely thin soles, so he can still feel some of the vibrations in the ground. Laura is inside, making blueberry pancakes. The kids aren’t up yet, and the day is cold as fuck, but he feels lighter than he has in days. There’s no real reason for it, but he feels _good_ , and not just because it’s Christmas day.

 

He knows the kids will be disappointed they won’t wake up to a white Christmas, but he’s enjoying the crunch of frosty grass under his boots. It’s overcast, so maybe there’s some hope for snow later in the day.

 

That’s when he feels something wrong. A huge wave of vibrations is coming towards the house. He runs the few steps to his car and flings open the passenger side door, opening the compound bow with a _snap_ and knocking the first arrow. He knows it would be tactically better to take cover and shoot as they come past, but he cannot leave Laura and the kids like that. He stands, square in front of the steps up to the front door, bow pointing at the road.

 

He almost shoots, but then the blur looks awfully familiar, blue and white. He doesn’t lower the bow in case he’s wrong.

 

He has about two seconds to process the blur before Pietro falls out of warp speed, gasping for breath, hands on his knees. He brings a hand to put pressure on his side.

 

Clint realizes this is the first time he’s seen Pietro out of breath.

 

He lowers his bow, and walks forward, stopping about three feet from Pietro.

 

Pietro makes an effort to stand up straight, facing Clint, looking at him in the eyes. “Don’t talk to me for about… 2 minutes. I should,” he stops himself from leaning too far forward, trying to remain upright and in full sight of Clint. ”I should get my breath back by then.” He crouches down and slowly lets himself lie on his back on the frosty grass. “I am going to lie here for a moment.”

 

Clint debates calling for Laura. Pietro isn’t a threat, but he showed up at a safe house that was not on any record connecting to him. Most likely, an Avenger told him the location. He had no qualms about Pietro knowing about this house, but he wasn’t sure if there was a threat close by. That’s the only logical reason Pietro would come here. He was suddenly angry with himself for not watching the news at all. Laura could have put the close captions on, and he could see where the danger was. He had been avoiding any and all TV, because of all those commercials he just _knew_ had bells jingling in the background and Christmas carols modified to sell their products. He wasn’t confident enough to sing yet, and he hated not being able to tell if he was being slightly too loud.

 

He decided to take up his bow and arrow again and keep a look out for whatever might be on its way.

 

Pietro pounded his fist on the ground, the vibrations getting Clint’s attention. “We are not in danger. No robots today. Just me.” His breathing was getting under control, and the frost from the grass was cooling him down nicely.

 

Clint dropped the sentry stance and knelt down next to Pietro. “Then why are you here?” He said it as casually as he could muster, but he didn’t realize that his voice was a little too quiet. His eyebrows were raised, and he seemed to have more expression on his face than normal.

 

Pietro waved his hand, and briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked at Clint and said, “Not important right now. We will talk later. I feel almost good as new,” he said, but considering he was still sweating and clutching his side with one hand, Clint looked worried.

 

Clint’s hands sprang to where Pietro was clutching his side as if he just realized Pietro might be hurt, and dragged his hand away to check for damage. Pietro flicked Clint in the head and said, “I am not hurt. I told you no one was in danger. I just have a cramp.”

 

Clint lets a laugh escape him. “You? Have a cramp? I wish I recorded that. I’d like Tony to make a dubstep remix out of it and play it at his next big social event.”

 

“You know what dubstep is? I am impressed. Perhaps you will escape the 1980s one day.”

 

“Not a chance, kid.” He was smiling. “Where did you run from? Did Stark drop you off in Cleveland?” If he ran from Cleveland, it probably would have taken an hour. Clint didn’t know anything about the kid’s endurance, as he usually only ran in short bursts at a time.

 

Pietro looked rather offended by this statement. “No, old man, I came from the Tower.”

 

Clint’s expression was unreadable. “You ran from New York City.” It was a statement.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You realize we’re in Ohio?”  
  
“Pennsylvania is very long, but the highways are mostly straight.”

 

Clint looked outraged. He scuffed the side of Pietro’s hand with the heel of his hand. “You’re an idiot.” Clint had the feeling if he turned around Natasha and Laura would be peeking out the window. “Have you eaten? Laura was making pancakes.”

 

\-------

 

Pietro hadn’t even realized Clint had been speaking at his normal volume outside until Clint started taking to Laura in a slightly quieter voice.

 

“We have a guest. I have a feeling someone told you he was coming.” Clint took off his shoes and socks, and put his empty coffee cup in the dishwasher.

 

Laura decided not to lie. “Wanda and Vision should be here soon too.” Clint gave her a look, and Laura shrugged. “I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

 

Pietro had mixed feelings about this bit of news. On the one hand, he didn’t like being separated from his sister, but he kind of wanted to do this on his own. Wanda might meddle, and he thought he had decent control on the situation. He knew Clint liked him already; he just needed to get a good moment to ask him out.

 

Natasha came down the staircase, and didn’t look the least bit surprised to see Pietro.

 

“Laura, you make very good pancakes,” Pietro said, stuffing another forkful into his mouth.

 

“Laura makes very good everything,” Clint said, taking a sip of orange juice.

 

“Clint’s a good cook too,” said Natasha.

 

“Where did you learn to cook?” Pietro looked between them. Clint’s expression hardened, but didn’t answer.

 

Laura said after a pause, “Clint’s brother and my ex-husband, Barney. He taught the both of us.”

 

“His gumbo is about the only thing I miss about him.” Clint said after a moment.

 

Pietro felt this must be a sensitive topic, so he didn’t continue his line of questioning. No matter how much he wanted to know more.

 

“The kids will be up any minute now. You want to get cleaned up, Pietro?” Laura said.

 

“I did not bring spare clothes,” Pietro said, suddenly realizing how rude it was for him to show up without asking Laura or Clint.

 

“Clint can get you something to wear,” Laura said, glancing at Clint.

 

Clint grumbles, but it’s mostly for the principle of the thing, rather than having any real objections. He says “Come on,” over his shoulder, heading up the stairs.

 

Pietro follows, and then realizes that Clint has led him into what must be Clint’s room. While Clint is shuffling through his dresser, Pietro looks around.

 

The room feels sort of generically country farmhouse like the rest of the house, mostly dark wood and navy blue fabric. It has been kept tidy, but whole room has personal touches that he doesn’t know came from Clint or Laura.

 

There are countless framed photos of Clint, Laura, the kids, and sometimes Natasha. One of them catches Pietro’s eye: Laura in a hospital gown, holding what must be her newborn first son. On one side of the hospital bed is a Clint, who is beaming but looks more exhausted than Laura does. On the other side is another man who has a small smile. Pietro sees the resemblance between the two men, and figures this must be Barney. He looks charming, in the used car salesman kind of way.

 

Pietro doesn’t notice Clint has turned around until he says, “That’s Barney. Laura insisted I have at least one picture of him, even though she doesn’t have a single photo of him anywhere else in the house.”

 

Pietro looks at him, and says carefully, “Where is he now?”

 

“Six feet under.” Clint pauses, and then says, “He died three months into Laura’s last pregnancy, about two years ago.”

 

“I am sorry for your loss.” Pietro says, not knowing what else to say.

 

Clint shrugged. “No one was sad when he died.”

 

“I cannot imagine losing Wanda.”

 

“Yeah, but Wanda is actually a good person.” Clint seemed to be done with this conversation, and opened a door next to the dresser. He said, “You can use my bathroom. Here are some clothes and a towel. You can use my soap and stuff. Hurry up, cause the kids will be up soon and you wouldn’t want to miss Christmas morning.”

 

\-------

 

Pietro puts on the clothes that Clint gave him. It’s just a generic white, long-sleeved shirt and some navy sweatpants, but it smells like the laundry detergent Clint favors. He feels like he doesn’t deserve to wear his clothes yet, since they aren’t even dating. But he also feels like he’s somehow achieved something to get to this point. He ignores the fact that there was no other option for clothes, unless he wanted to wear his sweaty tracksuit.

 

He comes down the stairs at a normal pace to see that the kids have come downstairs and are dragging Laura and Clint from the kitchen to the living room, begging them to start opening presents. The radio is turned on, playing nonstop Christmas music.

 

Clint sees him and waves him over. They settle onto the couch together, and the kids huddle around on the floor in front of the tree.

 

“Lila, Cooper, Nate. This is Pietro. He works with me and Auntie Nat.” Clint says.

 

Cooper looks at Pietro, his attention caught. “That’s my baby brother’s middle name.”

 

“This is who he was named after,” Laura says.

 

“Okay,” Cooper says. “Can I open a present now?”

 

Laura nods, and then retrieves a present each for Clint and Nat.

 

Clint looks sheepishly at Pietro and says, “I didn’t know you were coming, or I would have bought you something.”

 

“If you were going to get me something, it should have been during Hanukkah. Besides, I did not get you a present either, so we are even.”

 

Laura handed Pietro a heavy box. “I made you something, since I didn’t know what you would want. I would have had Clint make it, but it would have spoiled the surprise.”

 

Pietro didn’t know what she meant by that until he opened it. He laughed, and said, “Kugel! You know it is usually only served on Shabbat and holidays. My mother used to make this for Wanda and me.”

 

“Well if waiting until Sunday matters, you can save it until tomorrow,” Laura said.

 

Clint turns to his gift and unwraps it messily. It’s a tradition between him and Laura and Nat to get each other framed photographs for each other at every holiday. Today, it’s a photograph of himself and Lila waltzing in the living room, dressed as Prince Charming and Cinderella. He smiles softly until he realizes Pietro is looking over his shoulder at it.

 

When he knows Clint is looking at him, Pietro raises his eyebrows and says, “Are you secretly royalty? You would think a prince would have a more refined taste in music.”

 

Clint shoves him lightly, smiling. “Yeah, like a prince would be caught dead listening to Bon Iver. His lyrics don’t even make sense.”

 

Pietro rights himself, laughing, and says, “He does that on purpose. It is for the experience rather than the meaning. I have told you this.”

 

Clint suddenly realizes how close their faces are, and abruptly looks away. He clears his throat and says, “Cooper, what’d you get?”

 

Cooper swoops in, talking a mile a minute about a new video game Laura got him. Lila is squealing about a Cinderella doll and Nate is giggling in Laura’s lap.

 

Pietro knows his presence should feel intrusive, but it doesn’t. Especially when Lila climbs into his lap and asks him if he has seen Cinderella.

 

“Yes, but never in English.”

 

She blinks at him with a look that says _this is unacceptable_ and tells him, “We can watch it today. I own it.” She says this last part proudly, as if she earned that movie through hard work.

 

She climbs off his lap and heads over to the DVD rack.

 

“Here, Clint,” Nat says, handing him a gift. Clint hands her one in return.

 

He watches her open his gift, and sees her smile. She holds up a photo of her with her holding Nate’s hands, helping him learn to walk. “You’re such a softie.”

 

Clint smiles but says nothing, choosing to unwrap his gift. As soon as he sees what the photo is of, he quickly turns it over and hopes to God that Pietro didn’t see it.

 

“You gonna share with the class?” Laura says, grinning like the goddamn Cheshire cat.

 

“Nope.”

 

Pietro laughs and reaches for the upside-down frame. Clint abruptly stands up, holding both his gifts close to his chest. “I’ll just put these in my room.”

 

Pietro taps him and says, “I’ll race you.”

 

Clint is actually _blushing_ , and says, “Not a chance.” He glares at Natasha, who is laughing. He can’t hear it, but he bets it sounds evil.

 

He makes a beeline for the stairs. When he shuts the door to his room behind him, he takes a breath and looks at the photo.

 

It’s of that day when he trapped Pietro onto a metal sewer grate with magnetized shoes. Clint is clearly singing, but he’s smiling too. At the point the photo was taken, Clint had taken the sunglasses off and folded them on the collar of his shirt. He is leaning in slightly towards Pietro, as if he was begging Pietro to reach out and grab him. Frankly, he looks utterly besotted. Pietro has his arms crossed, and is clearly trying to glare but is utterly failing. His lips are clamped together, like he is trying very hard not to smile. There’s a hilariously excited passerby in the corner, who Clint remembers because he asked him if he wanted to sing at his sister’s wedding. Clint had declined politely, but he remembered the guy slipping his phone number into his jacket pocket, asking him to consider it.

 

Natasha must have been following him to take this photo. He feels a bit miffed that Nat followed, and more than miffed at himself that he didn’t notice her tailing them.

 

He stashes the photo in his dresser under a bunch of jeans, and sets the other photo on his desk.

 

When he goes back downstairs, Lila is sitting in front of the TV on a cushion, watching Cinderella. Pietro is sitting on the floor next to her, back-to-back with Cooper, who is playing on his Nintendo 3ds. He’s holding a dozing Nate in his lap. Clint’s heart suddenly squeezes very hard, seeing Pietro with his family like this.

 

He is kind of amazed all three of his kids warmed up to Pietro so quickly. Usually with Cooper, you have to earn it.

 

It feels natural, having him here, like a puzzle piece snapping into place. _Pepper better be right about this,_ he thinks.

 

\-------

Just before lunchtime, Laura gets a call from Wanda.

 

“Is Pietro there yet? He will not answer me and we could not find him on the roads. We are about two minutes from your house.”

 

“Yeah, he’s been here since about 7. He probably left his phone upstairs.”

 

Wanda didn’t mention that he had not responded to her mentally, that he was blocking her out. “Okay, thank you. We will be there soon.”

 

\-------

 

Lila made Pietro watch both the 1950 and 2015 renditions of Cinderella, and has now suggested she waltz with him.

 

“I do not know how to waltz,” Pietro admits.

 

“Oh.” She seems crestfallen, until she suddenly brightens and says, “Uncle Clint knows how. He can teach you, and then you can waltz with me!”

 

She runs out of the room before he can protest.

 

In the kitchen, Clint is setting the table.

 

Lila tugs on his arm and says, “Uncle Clint! You need to teach Pietro to waltz, so he can dance with me too!”

 

Clint looks alarmed. He looks at Pietro in the doorway, who is slightly blushing.

 

Natasha smirks, and signs at him, “ _Go get him, tiger.”_

Clint signs back at her, “ _If I could flip you off without my niece seeing, I would.”_ Out loud, he says, “Just the basic step, and then we’ll have lunch.”

 

They walk back into the living room, and Clint faces Pietro. He grabs his right hand in his, and puts his other arm on his waist. Clint and says, “I’ll be the lead, so you’ll know what it feels like to lead. And then we’ll switch”

 

They stand there for a brief moment, and then Clint steps forward on his left, and to the right quickly. Pietro struggles to keep up, and then he hears Clint start to sing softly “If my heart was a house” by Owl City.

 

“You're the sky that I fell through  
And I remember the view  
Whenever I'm holding you

The sun hung from a string  
Looking down on the world  
As it warms over everything

Chills run down my spine  
As our fingers entwine  
And your sighs harmonize with mine

Unmistakably  
I can still feel your heart beat fast  
When you dance with me”

 

For the chorus, Pietro softly joins in, harmonizing. He’s stopped looking at his feet and is focusing on being led, feeling the pull and push from Clint’s hands.

 

Clint is feeling like this is dangerous territory, especially since his niece is still sitting on the couch. Or, at least he thinks she is, because he can’t manage to look away from Pietro’s face to check. He keeps looking at his lips, and he tells himself it’s because he’s reading them to see what he’s singing. In reality he knows that Pietro is singing exactly the same thing he is, possibly harmonizing.

 

He spins Pietro smoothly, even though he told himself he would just do the basic step. At the second stanza, he stops moving his feet, and switches their arms so that Pietro will lead. They continue to sing, and Pietro does an adequate job of leading. At the last line, Pietro gets bold and spins Clint. When Clint swings around to come back to the normal position, he steps just a bit to close so that they are sharing breath.

 

From this close, Clint can’t see Pietro’s lips so he can’t tell what he’s saying. Clint backs up a step, and asks, “What did you say?” He can feel that his voice is hoarse. Watching Pietro’s lips is torture right now.

 

“I said, could you teach me more?” Pietro looks dead serious, and slightly out of breath for the second time today. Suddenly Pietro groans, and the tense atmosphere is gone. “My sister is here. And Vision.”

 

Clint notices that Lila is no longer in the room, and is somewhat grateful.

 

Pietro tilts his head towards the kitchen. “Laura just said lunch is ready.”

 

Clint takes a steadying breath, nods, and follows Pietro into the kitchen.

 

\-------

 

They have just enough room at the table for all 8 of them and the high chair in the corner, though they have to drag in extra chairs from another room.

 

Cooper is wary of Wanda and Vision, but Lila has no such restraints. Nate is saying the word “cookie” over and over, as if he stumbled across this new word and is getting used to saying it.

 

Laura serves homemade chicken potpie and a salad. There are store-bought rolls in a basket and Pietro offers kugel to anyone who wants it.

 

Clint sits at the head of the table, and Pietro sits at the right of him. Under the table, Pietro gently presses his knee against Clint’s, and looks at him to gauge his reaction. Clint steadfastly pretends like absolutely nothing is happening, but he doesn’t pull away.

 

Clint is looking down at his plate when Lila asks, “Mom, are Uncle Clint and Pietro married?”

 

Laura bursts out laughing, and Natasha smiles like a feral cat. Pietro can hear Wanda guffawing in his head, but to everyone else she is just smirking. Vision looks vaguely amused. Pietro’s face is burning.

 

Clint seems to see that something happened in the few seconds he was looking down at his plate. He raises his eyebrows at Nat, asking silently why everyone was looking at him for an answer.

 

Lila looks at her mom expectantly, and Laura says through her laughter, “No, honey, they aren’t married.”

 

Clint suddenly understands what is going on.

 

“Then why—“ Lila begins.

 

Pietro interrupts, perhaps a bit loudly. “Anyone want kugel?”

 

\-------

 

After the kids are in bed, Laura shows Wanda and Vision to their room. Natasha meets Clint’s eyes and signs, “ _I’m going upstairs so you and your beau can figure this out. I’ll tell everyone else to stay upstairs.”_

Clint throws a pillow off the couch at her, which she dodges. He has a feeling she’s laughing at him as she heads up the stairs.

 

Clint goes into the kitchen to grab two beers out of the fridge. When he’s at the counter, taking the lids off, he feels a thunderous vibration in the floor that means Pietro’s using his super speed, and then suddenly two arms are bracketing him in against to the counter. Clint turns slowly in a circle, still ensconced by Pietro’s arms.

 

Pietro is standing only just far enough away so that Clint can read his lips when he breathes out, “Go on a date with me?”

 

“Yes.” Clint can tell he sounds a little breathy, but he can’t seem to care because Pietro is kissing him.

 

It’s hot and eager and bruising, and it gives Clint the idea that maybe Pietro has wanted this as long as he has. Clint threads his fingers through Pietro’s hair and licks into his mouth. Pietro steps in closer, so that their bodies are flush against each other, and his hands creep up underneath Clint’s shirt.

 

Clint can feel them both getting hard, and Pietro starts rutting against Clint desperately. He can feel Pietro’s chest rumbling as he moans.

 

Clint pulls away from the kiss and says roughly, “I wish I could hear you.”

 

Pietro moans louder than before, and Clint grabs his hand and leads him to the couch in the den.

 

\-------

 

Clint slips out of Pietro gently, and rolls off as much to the side as he can manage on the couch. They are both sweaty and sticky and blissed out. Clint feels boneless and tired, but increasingly paranoid that someone will come downstairs. “We should go upstairs,” Clint says.

 

“Five more minutes.”

 

“Sometimes Cooper will come downstairs to play video games after he thinks everyone is asleep.”

 

Pietro curses in Sokovian. “Okay, okay.”

 

They clean up their mess and head upstairs slowly. They tumble into Clint’s bed and curl around each other, sleep coming easily.

 

\-------

 

TO: Pepper Potts

_I said yes. Gimme the voicemails._

FROM: Pepper Potts

_Thank God._

3 FILES ATTATCHED

 

Clint starts to click on one, until he realizes he won’t be able to hear it. _Damn._

\-------

 

On Boxing Day, Clint gets a text from Tony.

 

FROM: Tony Stark

The shipment came in early. The receiver is ready to be installed whenever you can make it back.

 

Clint flops against the couch and announces the news to the room.

 

Laura says, “Go on and get it fixed. I know it’s been killing you.”

 

“It might mean I’ll miss New Year’s.”

 

“You can spend it in the Tower if it comes to that.” Laura looks at him warmly and says, “Go.”

 

Clint says goodbye to the kids and Laura, and the Avengers board the plane that Clint and Nat took to get here in the first place.

 

They make the short flight back to New York City.

 

\-------

 

Tony is delicately installing the new receiver in his ear. Clint knows he’s talking, but he can’t turn his head to see what he’s saying.

 

Pietro is lounging in a chair next to Clint, seemingly relaxed except for the attentive look in his eyes, like he’s watching out in case Tony screws up.

 

There is a loud sound like speaker feedback, and then, “… don’t know what you did with it before, did you just shove it in as deep as it would go? Or did it kind of hang out a bit?”

 

“I hope to God you are talking about the receiver,” Clint says. He briefly registers that “She Drives Me Crazy” by the Fine Young Cannibals is playing overhead.

 

“It worked! Good, cause I had to learn a over a decades’ worth of medical technology in a week.” Tony looked his usual level of smugness.

 

Pietro leaned forward in his chair, and said with a grin, “Will you sing Owl City again now that you can hear?”

 

Clint groaned. “You have been waiting for days to bring that up, haven’t you?”

 

Tony looked a little too eager. “Clinton Francis Barton stooped to sing Owl City?”

 

“There is a lack of classic rock songs in 3/4 time. None of the ones I could think of fit. You know what? We are not discussing this in front of Tony.”

 

“Discuss away! 3/4 time? Why specifically 3/4 time? Did you two waltz or something?”

 

Clint grabbed Pietro’s arm and started dragging him towards the exit. He said to Pietro, “Don’t say a thing.”

 

“Oh my God. Tell me there is video evidence of this.” Tony started to follow them out of the room.

 

Pietro whispered to Clint, “Actually, Natasha was filming it on her phone. You just couldn’t look away from my lips.” He was smirking.

 

“Don’t say a thing. Friday will hear you.”

 

“Hey Tony, if I get it for you, can you make the classic rock stop?” Pietro calls over his shoulder.

 

Tony pretends to think about it for a moment. “Yes, as long as it is at least a minute long.”

 

“Deal,” Pietro says, grinning.

 

Clint drags Pietro forcefully until they wind up in front of Pietro’s door.

 

Pietro raises an eyebrow. “Not your room?”

 

“My room only plays your shit music. Open the door.”

 

Pietro would try to stall, just to aggravate Clint, but honestly he’s just as desperate. Once they get inside, Clint pushes him against the door and kisses him thoroughly.

 

Pietro breaks away, panting, and Clint mouths at his neck. Pietro asks, “I am not complaining, but you—ah, fuck, you were already half hard when you were dragging me away from Tony.”

 

It’s not a question, but Clint get’s the gist. “I want to be able to hear you this time.” Clint sucks hard on Pietro’s pulse point, and Pietro keens, rocking his hips against Clint’s. “I’ve been imagining it for months now.”

 

“ _Fuck._ ”

 

Clint gets his wish.

 

\-------

 

When they wake up, Clint asked Pietro to bring him coffee since he had so much goddamn energy, and so he finds Natasha at breakfast the next day. He sees this as an opportunity. “I want the video of Clint and me dancing.”

 

Natasha looks at him over the rim of her coffee cup, and raises an eyebrow. “I know Tony wants it.”

 

“Please?”

 

“I will let you watch it, and then decide if you still want to give it to _Tony Stark.”_

 

“It cannot be that bad.” Pietro hopes it wasn’t that bad.

 

Natasha wordlessly finds the video on her phone and hands it over. He sits at the island.

 

Pietro gives her a glance as he hits play. He watches, engrossed, in how effortlessly Clint leads him. The singing made it even worse; the lyrics seem even more personal the second time. Clint’s voice is annoying on pitch, even though he was deaf at the time. And when he hears his voice softly harmonizing, he can’t help the flush that spreads across his face.

 

But the whole thing is just so intimate, even worse than the video Laura sent. It is so completely obvious that they are both so far gone on each other, even though neither of them had admitted it at that point.

 

On the video, he can see Clint step in too close to him at the end, and he hears his own husky voice ask Clint if he could teach him more. The way he says it, it sounds like he meant more than just dancing. When he repeats himself for Clint, it sounds like he’s about to ravish him right then and there. Clint looks like he’s definitely okay with that.

 

In the background, you can hear a knock on the front door, and Laura say, “That must be Wanda and Vision.” The video ends.

 

Pietro realizes he’s slightly aroused, and sends a prayer of thanks that he is sitting down.

 

“You still want to send this to _Tony_?” Natasha looks like she knows his answer already.

 

“No.” He gets up quickly and without further explanation, and goes to his room, hoping Clint is awake enough to fuck him. When he gets there he realizes he forgot the coffee.

 

\-------

 

“I guess I am stuck with your music,” Pietro announces as they lay in bed, heartbeats calming down, skin cooling off.

 

“Was the video that bad?”

 

“Worse. I am ashamed that Natasha saw that.”

 

“And she has it on video. God, she’s gonna pull it back up at a really embarrassing time.” Clint knew Natasha. She might wait years, but it’ll happen.

 

They sit in comfortable silence for a while. Pietro then says, “Your music, I think, is not so bad.”

 

Clint grins into Pietro’s shoulder. “Florence and the Machine is okay.” He thinks for a moment, and then says, “But the lead singer in by Flogging Molly sounds like he’s wants to be an old man. And like he’s about to cry.”

 

Pietro laughs and nudges his shoulder with his own.

 

There’s still so much he wants to know about Clint. What made his brother so awful? Why did he never graduate elementary school? Where did he learn to sing? Why did he end up joining SHIELD?

 

How long exactly has Clint had feelings for him? He had said he had been fantasizing for months, but that could mean anywhere from two to as many months as they’d known each other. How much time did they have to make up?

 

“We can call a truce,” Pietro suggests.

 

Clint thinks about it. “It would be nice to fuck you in my bed.” Pietro felt a shiver of arousal course through him, even though they had just had sex. “Deal. We’ll talk to Pepper and Tony tomorrow.”

 

Pietro kisses him, soft and tender and hopeful. He wishes he could keep this moment in his grasp. But then, they have time for a lot more of these moments.

 

For the first time in years, he feels a sense of complete peace. He glances at the photo on Clint’s desk that Natasha gave him for Christmas.

 

Everything else might go to shit, but this—this will be good.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so, so sorry I didn't write smut. I tried multiple times and it was just unsatisfying and bad. Sorry.
> 
> I realized after I finished it that Rhodey and Sam should be here. I would have gone back to put them in, but I don't feel like I have a very good grasp on their characters. Sorry. :(
> 
> This is my first time finishing a fic and posting it. I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
